


#GuessTheGuest

by Annav94



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, POV Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annav94/pseuds/Annav94
Summary: It all started with a juicy picture and a thread at one of Narcissa Malfoy’s party.Namely, #GuessTheGuest.In reality it was all Bulstrode’s fault. Or perhaps his Mother should stop throwing the best parties of all times.But then this has nothing to do with the fact that he had just revealed to the world who his Guest of the Manor was.This has much to do with how his Mother found out about it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	#GuessTheGuest

**Author's Note:**

> Hi people.  
> This is my very first fan-fiction to ever see the light. And it all came to me while drawing the picture this ff is based on. All made in one day. One day of quarantine.  
> Each drawing of mine comes with a story behind that forms while I draw it. Word by word. But sometimes I like not to impose my story and let the fans create their own stories from the pic. This time around I decided to put some word on it.
> 
> Be kind, but also, be honest with me.  
> Tell me all about it.
> 
> Thanks for being here, it means the world to me.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/187581481@N07/49695141643/)

  
  
Funny enough, # **GuessTheGuest** started from none other than Bulstrode.  
Yes, the very introverse, ‘always keeping it for herself’ Bulstrode.

The very same one that everybody remembered of only when our friendship was mentioned in the conversations.  
Pansy tried to take credit for it, but truth is that Bulstrode loves gossip.

I realised that from the very beginning of our friendship, but, do not ask me why, it took a stupidly long amount of time for Pansy and Daphne to realise that as well. She loves a good, honest gossip so much so that she started trends without even realising it. Honestly, she should consider becoming a freelancer for ‘The Prophet’.

If there is one thing Mother loves more than gardening during hot summer days, is definitely throwing a party.

Her parties are something else entirely. And I am not saying that because I am biased, although, technically, I am.  
I am saying that because since the age of 13 I have attended a stupidly amount of parties, pretty much all around the wizarding world. You name it, and I can bet good galleons I was there. My favourites, back those days, were the crazy as hell American ones. They are so lousy. It’s surreal. You can be anything you want at those.

Mother belittled them every.single.time.  
For each of those that she _had to_ attend, she threw a much more elegant one at the Manor.

With time I started to appreciate hers over the American tackiness.

Mother had a subtle and rather delicate way of allowing sultry themes without making it vulgar.

Bless the British touch.

But the point here is that beside the grandiose decorations she always put on place, beside the unique theme she carefully chose each and every single time and the exceptional good food she served, the guests list was the #1 thing of Malfoy Manor’s parties.

Everyone one knows it. If there is one thing nobody, and I repeat this strongly, nobody can outdo Narcissa Malfoy in, is the capacity of putting together the most intriguing guests list.

I swear to Merlin, majority of the time I was attending them only to see the star of the night.

And because Father would have crucioed me if I didn’t.

Not that he ever did, it was a threat that lost its power around the twentieth times he shouted it at me when I was in no mood at all to attend one. I knew he was doing it for Mother.

‘After all the works your Mother has put on it, I am only asking for your snob ass to show up for couple of hours...’ and bla bla bla. At times, he would even concede a ‘no good behaviour required’. Hastily taken back as soon as I would enter the party’s premises. Quite frankly, I’ve got a certain sadomasochist pleasure in riling him up for nothing. It was fun, until he was pointing his menacing wand’s tip at my ‘so called’ snob ass.

So now you should have understood how it all started.

One night I would attend one of my Mother’s party, throw a sneaky pic on my account attached to a very short line with a hint or two at the Guest of the night, and within few minutes the whole female Slytherin chat group would have started to go outright crazy for the entirety of the night. Until the next slytherin reunion, when they would have harassed me until they had more juicy gossips about it than those spread by the papers’ gossip columns.

You would ask, how is it possible that Bulstrode was always the one starting the gossiping within the Slytherin group, since I was the one posting the sneaky pic? I’ll tell you how, and with regrets, the many months it took me to realise that.  
My account is under a pseudonym.

I have nothing to hide, or nothing left, really, given the meticulous journalistic analysis every single paper in this country had undergone regarding my family and my family’s business, before, during and after our trial at the end of the war. So now, the entire wizarding nation knows pretty much anything about the Malfoys and a tad bit more about the Black Family and even how I was conceived before Mother and Father were wedded. (Just a month before). Even I didn’t know that particular until the Daily Prophet made it its front title on the January’s special edition.

Really.

But my account, Merlin knows how, had not been disclosed. Although I had many followers, nobody could really tell it was mine. Even before the trial, if father would have known that the account always betraying the ‘private’ actions of the party, beating even the papers in time, was mine.... Boy, you can just imagine to what extent Lucius’s ire could have gone.

So I made it my paramount to never betray my identity behind it.

Except Bulstrode had me since the beginning. I had only asked her once, and in a very concise way to show me how to make sure I could erase my internet history for good measure. So she showed me in a very polite and nearly uninterested way how to with her device. And I fell for it. ‘Cause I logged in with hers one. And then out, and then I forgot to check on something and logged back in, got distracted quite cleverly by Bulstrode and then, there you go. She had access to it every single time she wanted to. And she undoutably made sure to check on it every time Mother’s was calling for a party. Or any ‘party of the year’ we were going to attend. But those never started the ramifications in gossips as much as my Mother’s guests list.

I put my mind on it for months. How is that the girls would have always known if none of my classmate was on my followers list? I was very meticulous on who to allow access to my private account.

When I confronted her she blackmailed me. Of course. Slytherin and all. I wasn’t even bothered. We made a deal, her unlimited access for her word to never reveal the true identity behind the pseudonym. Honestly, I bet she was dripping.

So this is how it started, with Bulstrode tipping the conversation with #GuessTheGuest @MalfoyManor in their group chat, followed by a snapchat of the original pic and comment. And then the girls would have gone on and on about it for days if not weeks. Depending on the guest at hand.

‘What the hell is this ‘GuessTheGuest’ you cannot stop talking about?’ Nott asked one of those time we gathered at Pansy’s Mother holiday estate in South of France.

It nearly sent Pansy on a tantrum.

‘Honestly, Nott, where do you live?’ And that coming from Daphne said a lot.

‘I’ve tried to follow his account, but I have been put on hold since....forever,’ Blaise said faking to mask how it was bothering him.

‘Nobody follows him, unless you are _Someone_ ’. Pansy said.

‘And how is that you have access to it?’ Blaise questioned.

‘I don’t. I get tipped via someone else that is tipped before me, and so on.’

‘So, neither you have made it into his followers list’.

‘No, but at least I get into the thread within 20 minutes it’s usually posted. Now, I bet you knew about Sir Galligan attendance of last night Malfoy’s party only this morning from ‘The Prophet’, and even then, you wouldn’t have been too sure until I confirmed it, ‘cause we all know most of the times the papers get tipped on the wrong guest’.

Zabini’s annoyance was only growing bigger.

My smirk at this time was incredibly difficult to hide, so I moved slightly on my chair and bathed in the sunshine of the summer day, having the excuse of squinting because of it.

Bulstrode was so good, let me tell you. Her stony-I do not give two fucks’ face was impeccable all the way through. I was nearly proud.

‘And who’s this ‘person’ behind the account?’ Theo asked, although he fully knew he would have sent the girls on a rampage.

‘Nobody knows!’ They all said simultaneously.

‘Honestly, Nott, where do you live?’ Daphne reprimanded him again.

He breathed in deeply and then went on schooling them, as he always did in his aristocratic way.

‘Tsk, now. Please. Cool your horses.’ (Who even used those phrases nowadays if not Nott?) ‘Once you eliminate the impossible from the options...you’ll soon find out that the answer is most often than not right in front of your eyes.’ Everyone looked at him expectantly.

‘Of course the person behind the account is Draco here.’ I nearly doubled over. Nearly.

‘What? The hell man, get something in your stomach before you verbalise these absurd thoughts, it might help, you know?’ Pansy and Daphne were really looking intently at me.

‘You do tend to deny something that is true but you don’t want to talk about’, said Pansy.

Then I leaned over the table we were having brunch and with steady eyes I looked right into hers ones.

‘And why would I put myself into such a pickle just to have the threat of my father’s wand at my neck? Because if it took so little for Nott to realise, then it’s only about time before father puts two and two together. And _you_ know how badly he’s been wanting that account down for ages.’ The seconds felt like were stretching into minutes and the tension was palpable. Pansy looked squared in my eyes for the entire time.

Until she shrugged it off, together with Daphne, and proclaimed that ‘Yeah, that cannot be. Draco isn’t the one behind it.’

It appeared that Lucius Malfoy’s wand had a long reputation. Even among my friends.

‘So how is it that we have a guest at the Manor without even throwing a party?’ I stopped dead on my trail and froze in the middle of the foyer where Mother was currently arranging a freshly cut bunch of flowers on a vase. She didn’t even look at me.

‘Pardon?’

‘Oh, don’t pardon me, Draco.’ She waited for me to provide her the answer. Only my throat became very dry all of a sudden and boy, my mother surely was the only witch capable of that.

‘Pansy’s Mother just flooed me. She nearly threw a tantrum at me,’ (well, that runs in the blood, I thought), because a friend of a friend of hers has told her that we’ve invited Miss Granger over at the Manor. Now, as matter of fact, I know quite closely how badly Mrs Parkinson has tried to get Miss Granger going over for tea, for quite some times now, and it appears, each times, that she lives a rather busy and scheduled life, only for then spontaneously popping over at the Manor. You might imagine my surprise in hearing the news.’ She then turned towards me and looked me straight in the eyes.

I was so all over the place that I did what I knew best at the time. I kept quiet and still. Mother delicately removed her gardening gloves and walked towards me. I wasn’t entirely sure if she was upset over it or if she was trying to send me a double message. Maybe both. How could I know when all my blood stopped circulating around?

‘Are you mad at me because—‘

‘No, I’m not.’ And then she paused, calculating her words.

‘Although I cannot deny that I have been rather amazed by your poor choice of _companionship._ Really what were you thinking?’ So that was it.

And here I thought Father was going to be the biggest mountain to climb once we, if it ever occurred, would have gone public. She must have seen it in my expression, the rage and hurt that was quickly growing from my throat to my eyes.

‘Don’t misinterpret my words, darling. Before you get your feathers in a bunch.’ She then placed a very calming hand over my upper arm.

‘I’m....confused...’ And that was to say in the least!

‘You know I don’t mind you having....having your private times with witches at the Manor.’ Still, if you’d believe that my 19 years old ass could have possibly taken the blow with a certain degree of fashion, you are utterly wrong. I was blushing like a virgin, and I knew it, because I was feeling it creeping all the way up to my ears.

‘Mother...’

‘Hush. I am no silly.’ Surely you know better than me. After all, you conceived me a month prior your wedding, I thought silently.

‘You know we are okay with it, but to have...’ and then she looked around like we were on a crowded piazza and continued on a much lower tone, ‘To have a one time off with Miss Granger, I doubtedly think of it as a well thought it through decision. I mean,’ she then proceed on wearing her gloves back on and moved toward the flowers, ‘You are a very intelligent, quite the beauty, young wizard. Some papers have even started calling you the bachelor. You could have any witch. Miss Granger comes with a huge notoriety of her own. How could you not think that this _business_ could possibly cause you a massive coverage on the papers? And possibly a bad one as well, and for Merlin knows how long. Just think about it, for crying out loud. What after today? What if you two don’t leave in good terms? Just for the glory of one night you would allow yourself to fall into the same animosity—‘

‘Mother,’ I interrupted her.

‘I am deadly serious, Draco.’

‘So am I.’ That paused her, and me together. Because until then I didn’t realised that the baby steps I've taken in this ‘business’, as Mother put it, all these months before, were all to protect me and Granger from making a huge mistake, for then ending up in regretting it too badly after it was all done and said.

Before it was too late.

Before the free fall.

‘Okay then, so what about _the other witches_? Although I am not requesting you to be so serious as to give her the family heirloom, if not for nothing, at least as a sign of respect for her and of your word, I am not allowing _promiscuous_ —‘ and at that I laughed out loud.

‘Draco.’ She admonished me.

‘Mother....’

‘Yes?’

‘There’s always been one witch, and one witch only for the past months.’

‘Oh’.

‘Have a good day.’ I smiled while I watched Mother’s tensed muscles relax and walked away.

And then a striking thought froze me on the spot again.

‘And, exactly, what...what did you say to Pansy’s Mother?’

‘That Sir Lagarde of Bordeaux, while staying at the Manor as a dear old friend of my mother’s distant cousin, was allowed to have as many guests as he pleased, and that surely she would have not expected of me to check upon them.’

‘Sir Lagarde of what?’

‘Exactly.’

Why did I even doubt, even though for a mere second, that there was an actual possibility of me not being sorted into Slytherin, back those years.

Father was only half the snake Mother could be.

‘Have a good day, you two.’ I grinned, this time, while I walked back to my private wing of the Manor, where Granger was waiting on me and our wander around the Malfoy’s gardens.

And that was it.

The time I said to Mother that I had been dating Hermione Jean Granger for the past eight months.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks. 
> 
> Peace & Love, Anna.


End file.
